


hold me in your everlasting arms

by AndreaLyn



Category: The Old Guard (Movie 2020)
Genre: M/M, Multi, Sex Pollen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-16
Updated: 2020-07-16
Packaged: 2021-03-05 02:29:14
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,710
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25316824
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AndreaLyn/pseuds/AndreaLyn
Summary: The 1988incidentis the reason the team now takes extra precautions on certain jobs after Joe and Nicky need to take the lead and make sure the whole team comes out the other side fulfilled and sated while trying not to lose themselves in one another.
Relationships: Andy/Nicky/Joe/Booker, Joe | Yusuf Al-Kaysani/Nicky | Nicolò di Genova
Comments: 51
Kudos: 549





	hold me in your everlasting arms

**Author's Note:**

> Tove, thank you for the beta, and for listening to me ramble about how the dynamics of this just weren't working until you helped shove them into place!
> 
> There is Andy/Booker/Nicky/Joe in pretty much all permutations, though only in the acute sex pollen situation they find themselves in (as you do).

The incident happened in 1988. 

It’s something they haven’t talked about since, when the team had instantly agreed to put a moratorium on even a _mention_ of it. The trouble is that Nile is on the team now, Andy’s sitting this one out, and Booker is gone. It means Nile wants to know why it is they need gas masks and she isn’t listening to Joe’s, “Just because.”

They’re going to have to tell her.

“We’ve run up against Lystra Drugs once before,” is all Nicky has to say about it.

“Okay, but _why_ the masks?”

Joe looks at Andy, who’s still sitting in on the briefing even though she’s sitting the mission out -- not because she’s concerned about dying, but she’s concerned about a repeat. “You know her. She’s not going to stop asking,” Andy points out.

She’s not wrong.

Nicky lets out a long-suffering sigh, taking it for the approval to share that it is. 

“It was a few decades ago...”

* * *

# 1988

“Why do these corporations always look like they hire mad scientists?” Joe complains, his gaze tracking up to the top of the looming grey brick building. He’s in the middle of accepting ammo from Nicky, cupping his neck in thanks as he loads up. 

Nearby, Booker is hacking into the security system and Andy is keeping watch. 

Their last job had been too public for them to run clean-up immediately after. When they’d returned under cover of darkness, Lystra had beaten them to it, collecting their blood samples and other DNA left at the scene. It’s too dangerous for them if anyone has it, which is why they need to get it back.

“Leave them a note about their interior design,” Andy retorts.

“I’ve got the outer doors unlocked and the cameras are offline,” Booker announces. “Skeleton staff is on, as expected, and we have a clear path to the lab.”

“You heard the man. Let’s move,” Andy orders, taking the lead. 

The schematics lead them through the facility easily. At the time, it doesn’t seem strange not to encounter any resistance. They planned this well, and it’s the night shift. Of course they shouldn’t be met with anyone. 

That thought is something Nicky has to revisit when they make it into the lab and the doors lock shut behind them within moments of their arrival.

“Book?” Andy calls out warningly.

“On it!” 

Andy searches for another exit as Nicky finds the samples, dumping them onto a table he’s cleared. “Joe,” he calls, using the hilt of his sword to start smashing it to pieces, pouring chemicals over the samples to render them useless while Joe follows to do the same. 

Did they trip a security system? Why did the door lock behind them?

And what’s that hissing sound? 

“What the fuck?” Andy asks, when she notices that it’s not just a _sound_. 

Nicky wants to know the same. It’s coming from the air vents and infiltrating the room in a fine red mist. Instantly, he pulls at the fabric of his shirt to get it above his nose, a hand on the small of Joe’s back as he works to keep destroying the samples. 

It’s not poisonous gas because he doesn’t feel his lungs seizing. He can breathe it in, but it doesn’t seem to be doing anything. 

That means he keeps going.

“Booker. The doors?”

“Not yet.” His voice is lower, as if he’s labouring to breathe. 

He’s not the only one struggling. Nicky doesn’t know what to name it, but he feels an ache inside of him that he can’t place. It drags him down, pulling him like a molten pool that collects at his feet and sticks him in place. It’s doing something, but he’s not picking up on the _what_ just yet. 

“The subjects don’t appear to be sedated,” a voice comes from the security feed Booker has hacked into. “Why aren’t they sedated? It’s supposed to numb their responses. Oh no. Oh _no_.” 

“Fucking evil scientists, man,” Joe gripes as he struggles to stay to his feet. Grasping at Nicky, he collapses to his knees, his cap tumbling off nearby. Nicky reaches for it as he inhales deep lungfuls of the strangely-tinted gas, hurrying after Joe to make sure he’s okay. 

He hands the cap to Joe, and the instant Joe’s fingers slide over Nicky’s skin to thank him, the electric _pulse_ that slides through Nicky’s body tells him that something is very wrong. 

“Guys,” Booker mumbles, sounding rough and somewhat wary. He’s a shadow out of the corner of Nicky’s eye, because he can’t look away from Joe.

Joe’s looking at him with that half-lidded look of intent he always gets a few seconds before Nicky ends up pinned to the nearest surface. The smell only grows, an intoxicating scent that overwhelms Nicky’s olfactory processing, and he thinks, _gas_. They used gas on them, but what kind of gas?

“Abort,” calls a voice over the security feed. “Do not engage.”

The only person Nicky sees is Joe. He’s the only thing in the world even if his brain is trying to get him to remember something else. Isn’t he on a mission? Aren’t there other people here? Nicky’s sure there must be, but another deep inhalation clears his thoughts and his instinctual drive tells him that the only thing he should worry about is -- 

_Joe._

_Joe’s touch._

_Joe’s body._

_**Yusuf.** _

“You feel it,” Nicky mumbles, blood thumping in his veins, his skin prickling with a need to be touched, so much so that he grabs Joe’s wrists with both his hands, coaxing him to touch him. His blood is boiling with an aching need that he knows well, one that they achieve together when their bodies are trying to collide to allow their souls to become one again.

“Nicky,” Joe breathes out raggedly.

“Joe,” is his response, kissing the pulse point of Joe’s wrist, which elicits a broken moan from Joe as he buckles before Nicky. 

“They must have been trying to inhibit some response,” comes a voice that Nicky had forgotten to listen for.

Andy. 

Not just Andy. Booker is here too, he remembers now. 

They’re not alone. They were on a mission to find out what samples Lystra had collected from them after their last job and must have known they were coming. They’d laid a trap, only for it to go horribly wrong.

“We need to work on the door and get out,” Joe says, but his eyes are wide, his pupils blown.

He’s not moving anywhere. Nicky’s not sure he could. His legs feel wobbly and unsteady, like mud wanting to return to the earth. He melts into Joe’s body, his fingers frantically catching onto the hem of Joe’s shirt, frantic and eager to touch fingertips to blessed warm skin. 

“Everyone’s clothes stay on!” Andy grits out the words.

The protesting noise from Nicky escapes his lips before he can stop himself, but it’s an _order_. Even overwhelmed and losing his mind like this, he knows how to follow an order.

“Got it, boss,” Joe confirms, with Nicky nodding his agreement even if his head feels heavy. 

Nicky catches Joe’s smile, unable to help his own. They don’t need a lab to lower their inhibitions to get them frantic with a frenzied need for one another. If anything, it feels a little like when he’s had too much red wine and Joe’s decided to perch in his lap, though that need is a dull thing compared to the thing singing in his veins now.

This also isn’t like normal because they’re not on their own. 

Surging towards Joe, Nicky kisses him to try and mute the need, as if this will allow his mind to work the problem of Andy and Booker, of what might happen if they aren’t able to help. He can see Andy writhing on the ground nearby working her clit with her fingers. Booker is on the opposite side of them, but he’s trying to dig his hands into the linoleum like he can stop it from happening. 

“Someone kill me until this is over!” Booker growls nearby, the sound of fabric rustling as he shoves a hand into his pants. 

Nicky’s gaze swerves to find Joe’s, asking for a permission he doesn’t really need, but still wants. He gets it in the briefest of nods, and Nicky crawls the short distance towards Booker, prying the gun from his shaking hand. “ _Basta_ , you’ll only come back and breathe it again,” he reminds him. “Let me help.”

“Nicky,” Booker growls at him. 

“Booker,” he retorts, and grabs at his hair to haul him in for a messy kiss, dragging his body with him until Nicky’s back meets Joe’s in the middle of the room. 

One quick glance over his shoulder shows him Joe and Andy’s legs tangled together, with Joe slowly rubbing the fabric of his pants over the seams of Andy’s, her legs spread wide. To prevent any noise, Joe kisses her, as if he can save her the humiliation of hearing her own need aloud. 

With Joe behind him, Nicky is grounded, but not satisfied. 

“Joe,” Nicky demands, a barked order. 

“ _Sono qui_ ,” Joe vows, his voice rough as he fumbles to reach his hand back, shoving it inside Nicky’s pants to frantically jerk him off, while Nicky fumbles to do the same. One hand twists back to roughly squeeze Joe through the fabric of his combat pants, the other sliding up Booker’s shirt to twist and roughly drag over a nipple. 

He can hear the rustle of movement behind him, but his attention is fixed on Booker, scraping blunt fingernails down Booker’s abs, into the waistband of his boxers, taking him in hand. 

“Nicky,” Booker warns roughly. 

“Don’t worry,” Nicky cuts off anything else. “I’ll be good to you.”

“Listen to him, Booker,” Joe calls over his shoulder. “He’ll be so good to you, just let Nicky do what he does best.”

“Too much talking,” Andy snaps at him, her tone guttural. Nicky feels the warmth of Joe at his back vanish for a moment, but then he’s pushed back, like Andy is using Nicky as a surface to pin Joe against.

The cacophony of noises overwhelms Nicky’s mind. Fabric rustling, hands moving, moans bitten back, skin pressed under clothes in desperate touches.

It’s _not enough_ , but they have their orders. 

They only need to get through this and then they can focus on an escape. It turns out, they’re not the only ones aware of the unexpected situation, because the door unlocks with a click and suddenly, they’ve got company. 

“I’m in the room,” a voice says at the door. “I have eyes on the targets. Permission to shoot?”

Joe lets out a frustrated howling noise, lifting his pistol and firing two shots into the security guard’s forehead before letting the gun clatter to the ground. The sudden chaos triggers something in Andy. She pulls free of Joe (which dislodges Nicky’s hand from him and earns its own possessive barking noise), but then she moves Nicky out of the way so she can crawl past the both of them towards Booker.

It leaves them on their own, their universes shrinking once more.

“Nicky,” Joe murmurs. “Nicky, Nicky,” is a prayer, a plea, “My beloved, you can fix me,” he chants, and grabs Nicky’s face to haul his gaze away from Andy and Booker.

It’s not before he sees the reverent way Booker stares at Andy, the way she grabs at his hair to cradle him in and press their foreheads together while whispering, “Touch me. I got you, Book. You got me?”

“Yeah,” Booker exhales roughly. “Yeah, boss.”

His attention is dragged away by Joe’s rough hands on his chin.

“ _Bello_ ,” Joe sings his praises, tangling his fingers in Nicky’s hair as he steals a kiss from him. 

Nicky is weak for this man. The millennium creeps closer to ending, but every kiss from Joe is as exciting and impassioned as the one before. He doesn’t remember their first kisses, but he knows how Joe makes him feel and how _that_ hasn’t changed over the centuries. Nicky kisses him and swallows every endearment, every soft moan, and fights the urge to strip him bare and pin him down to take him in his mouth.

Clothes on, he reminds himself. Andy’s orders.

He might not be able to think about escaping, but he can remember that. 

Joe winks at him and holds his thumb out for Nicky to suck, which he does eagerly, getting it slick and perfectly wet for Joe to slip it inside of him, kneading and applying gentle pressure to his ass while he tangles his fingers of his other hand with Nicky’s to take hold of his cock.

“ _Madre de dio_ ,” he blasphemes for how _good_ that feels, bringing him a relief only the desert knows when it sees rain. 

It’s a crude echo of what they normally share, but right now, it feels like poets could write hundreds of verses about this touch. Nicky catches Joe’s face with his hand, grabbing him for a frantic kiss before his head lolls back from it, lips dragging across the scrape of his beard, the burn marks on his cheek healing within seconds. 

“Nicky,” Joe mumbles, when Nicky’s on the edge and Joe _knows_. 

“ _Sì_ ,” is his promise that Joe’s right to expect it of him. He comes moaning Joe’s name, and as his body relaxes somewhat, his mind is already fixing itself on a task.

It’s Joe’s turn, it’s Nicky’s job to make him feel as good as he does. 

He pries their hands from his pants to kiss the centre of Joe’s palm. “ _Permesso?_ ” Then, he tugs at Joe’s pants to slide them just down enough that Joe’s yelping, muttering about broken orders. Nicky will make sure Andy doesn’t see. It also won’t take long, because he knows Joe, and he knows how to make him weep with pleasure.

He settles on his knees, bowing his head in his own personal prayer, wrapping his lips around Joe’s length and curling his tongue to earn as much of a taste as he can. Joe buries his hands in Nicky’s hair, resting his chin on the top of his head. Their bodies are contorted into awkward shapes so Nicky can do this _and_ to keep Andy from seeing them blur the line of her orders.

“Nicolò,” Joe’s groan is a guttural, animal thing as he names him for who he used to be. 

To Joe, this pleasure is ancient and new, something they’ve done for so many centuries, but Nicky thrills to know that it’s still enough when the taste of Joe’s orgasm anoints his tongue. He swallows eagerly as he pulls Joe’s pants back up.

Clothes on -- orders followed. Mostly. Joe can give him a hard time later. 

Joe cups Nicky’s neck and drags him in to press their forehead together. Nicky’s breathing is ragged, but the orgasm has made space in his brain to think. “You need to come,” he calls over to the others. “Andy. Booker. You need…”

“We’re trying!” Andy barks back at him, which he understands. It had taken such a build-up, so much effort, and only Joe’s care and knowledge of Nicky’s body had managed to tip him over the edge. 

“They need our help,” Nicky says urgently. “Joe…”

“We’re here,” Joe confirms, crawling on his hands and knees towards Booker. 

Nicky stumbles to his feet, and he collapses at his knees before Andy, a supplicant to this god of a woman. She’s so much to him and he stares at her with adulation as she cups his face and strokes her fingers over his cheeks.

“Nicky,” she breathes out fondly, and lets him move his hands up her shirt, his thigh slipping between hers as he caresses her breasts with such care to contrast the frantic rutting of his leg. He wants to be tender and careful, but every time he tries, she yanks at him to increase the pressure of his fingertips, the speed he’s using.

Maybe after so long, the senses are dulled, and it takes more effort than ever for Andy to feel. Nicky hopes not, for her sake and for his. Joe’s kiss is still an electrical storm in a bubble, as exciting each time as the last.

He never wants that to fade. 

Nicky obeys her orders, gives Andy everything she needs, and he even knows the moment it finally is enough by the sheer relief that washes over her face. He’s not even sure if he’s the one who did it or if Andy’s guiding touch had been the defining factor, but she’s found a kind of peace.

Nearby, he can see Booker slumping against Joe, breathing heavy and hard.

“Everyone okay?” Andy murmurs.

“Good, boss,” Nicky confirms.

Booker grunts his acknowledgement.

Joe catches Nicky’s eye and the gall he has to smile as if this hadn’t been an unexpected disaster is charming to Nicky, and only serves to make him fall more in love. “Peachy,” he replies, winking at Nicky. 

The gas is dissipating thanks to the open door, which is propped open by the security guard’s body. With the gas leaching out, their thoughts rush back in to fill the void.

It’s giving Nicky a chance to think, but better, it offers them escape. He reaches over to tap Booker’s shoulder twice, a signal to get moving. Joe helps stabilize Nicky as they move, with Andy leading the charge and moving like nothing’s happened.

Maybe she’s been alive so long, this isn’t strange to her. 

No one speaks in their exodus, clothes being adjusted and weapons carefully tucked away. The samples at Lystra have been destroyed, but at such a cost, Nicky isn’t sure what they intend to do about it. 

They’re two miles away from the site before Nicky feels like himself again. 

True, there are lingering thoughts of what he wants Joe to do to him and him to Joe, but those things are normal.

“I really wish we’d blown up that lab,” Booker mutters, stumbling on still-weak knees. He ends up catching himself on Nicky’s shoulder, but he removes his hand instantly like he’s been scalded.

The displeasure must show on Nicky’s face, because Joe shoots Booker a furious glare. “Don’t make Nicky look like that,” he warns with a dangerous calm.

“Guys,” Andy cuts in. “It happened. For some of us, it’s not the first time,” she admits, her eyes cutting over to Nicky and Joe. “We never have to talk about it again. Okay?” 

“That’s what I wanna hear,” Booker says, emptying his flask until it’s dry as he staggers away. 

Joe gives Andy an easygoing smile, groping Nicky’s ass as he coaxes him along. “We’ll save it for pillow talk,” he vows. 

Andy squints at him for a long moment, cups Joe’s head, and presses a kiss to his temple. She does the same for Nicky, and he soaks up the affection. “Thanks,” is a gruff token of gratitude that she’ll deny offering later. She heads after Booker to their ride. 

It leaves Nicky with Joe, grateful to have him. Even a millennia later, there’s no one he wants at his side in a fight or in bed than Joe. “One day, you’re going to say something that gets us into trouble,” Nicky warns him with a fond huff of laughter. 

“We’re always in trouble,” is Joe’s counter. He catches him by the forearms before they can join Andy and Booker at the truck, holding onto him as his eyes traverse his body. “Hey,” he murmurs, stopping them from following. “You good?”

Nicky’s not so sure what Joe is expecting. He sounds as if he’s worried Nicky is going to be upset that they’ve broached their shared intimacy with the others. 

Maybe Joe expects him to feel frustrated or furious, but Nicky is feeling more than fine. 

“We helped take care of them,” is the only thing that matters to Nicky. “I’m okay. You?”

“The sex with you was excellent as always, but I’m okay with us avoiding discussions of what Booker sounds like when he comes,” he guarantees. “Next time there’s an evil scientist lab with sex-inducing mist, let’s save that for you and me.”

“A date?”

“You always complain I never take you out anymore,” Joe agrees with an easy smirk, one side of his lips curving up higher than the other. “Why not?”

They join the others to catch their ride out of there, watching Lystra fade into the distance in the rearview mirror. With it, the incident will also hopefully stay buried for as long as possible, if only for Andy and Booker’s sake.

* * *

Nile gapes at Nicky, her gaze sliding to Joe (who confirms it all with a simple nod while wearing that mischievous look that Nicky does so love). She turns her disbelief to Andy. “Are you serious?”

“Wear the mask,” Andy advises. “We’re hoping you go at least fifty years before your first unavoidable team bonding incident happens,” is her deadpanned addition. 

“I’m insulted, honestly,” Joe replies. “I was a very generous lover.”

Andy lifts her gun, which gets Nicky moving in between her and Joe to take any errant bullets of vengeance. “Joe,” Nicky says patiently, not bothering to look back. They’ve been together for nearly a thousand years. Joe knows what that tone of voice means.

“We’ll wear the masks and keep Nile’s honour intact,” Joe makes his promise. 

“Good boys,” Andy says. “Now go. Take down the evil scientists for me.”

The orders just keep getting easier. “Yes, boss,” Nicky and Joe echo. 

“You know, maybe they’d share their formula with us,” Joe tells Nicky as they load up. “We were looking for something fun to do on our next date.”

Nile is staring at them like she can’t decide if they’re joking or not.

Nicky grins, deciding to not make it easier for her. “Ask nicely. We’ll see if they share.”

“I’m always nice,” Joe insists.

“You’re always something,” Nicky agrees, ducking in for a kiss that tastes as sweet as every other kiss they’ve shared, and every bit as exciting -- gas or no gas.


End file.
